When the Dream Became Real - Part II
by Judache English
Summary: Part 1 saw Vincent and Catherine taking their relationship to the next stage for the first time, in my imagining of how that would have happened if the dream sequence at the beginning of 'Any Means Possible' had been real. Part 2 continues the events of that night.


**When the Dream Became Real – Part II**

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, this is a work of fiction based on the characters and story_

Vincent stopped and looked up at Catherine. He was mere inches from his goal, and she was literally quivering, wanting and needing to feel his mouth, right there, right now. "May I?" he asked.

Catherine looked back at him, taken aback by the question, and momentarily shaken out of her euphoria. "May I?" she repeated. She giggled. "Everything we just did, the way you're making me feel right now, and you're asking permission?"

Vincent looked at her sheepishly. "Well I know some women don't really, ah, enjoy this...so, I didn't want to assume anything, I mean even though I've imagined how you...err...we..." his voice trailed off as his face reddened.

Catherine smiled to herself as she realised that Vincent had just - and not for the first time tonight either - inadvertently admitted to having illicit thoughts about her, about them together. She liked that. She really liked that. It also fleetingly crossed her mind that any woman who didn't want this man doing what he was doing, would have to be crazy. "I'm sorry Vincent; I'm not laughing at you, really. It's just that, well, nobody has ever asked me for permission before. I mean never. And yet here you are, half wild Beast, but still the biggest gentleman of them all". She giggled again and muttered under her breath "And I do mean 'biggest'. Oh...you just heard that, didn't you?"

Vincent looked up at her with a mischievous grin and a definite twinkle in his eye. "Sorry Catherine, what did you say? You know my hearing's not the best."

The mood had returned, for both of them. Vincent glanced back down at his prize, running his tongue over his lips in anticipation. Even the mere sight of that tongue just about sent Catherine over the edge. "For the record, the answer is yes, you may. Actually you must, oh God you really, really must." Her heart rate was picking up. "And to save time, take this as a blanket 'yes' for anything else you might want to do tonight. Now, please..." her hips were moving again... "Vincent please..."

Vincent leaned in, pulling her closer, his hands kneading her ass. His tongue flicked out, impossibly quick, briefly feathering over that most sensitive part of a woman's body. Although he had barely made contact, the effect on Catherine was pure bliss, sending wave upon wave of ecstasy to every nerve ending, making her literally purr for more. Vincent waited for her first reaction, and then did it again. And again and again and again, until Catherine could hold back no longer. She laced her hands behind his head, and pulled his mouth down onto her sex, moaning as she felt his warmth upon her, begging for more. Vincent obliged, exploring every fold with his tongue, inside, outside, up and down, round and round, as if to devour her. Catherine knew that her juices were flowing relentlessly, and she groaned from deep within as he lapped at her time and time again, rolling her bud between his lips, leaving no part of her unattended. She happily noted that Vincent appeared to be as aroused by this as she, making the same noises, breathing becoming strained, and meeting her sporadic thrusts almost as though he knew they were coming.

He continued to consume her, and Catherine whimpered as she felt his incredibly long tongue delving even deeper, searching, reaching for that unattainable spot that...wow...okay...mmm...perhaps not so unattainable for him after all. He had it, he did, oh yes he did...oh...oh...oh! His tongue continued to move in exactly the right way as Catherine's orgasm took hold almost without warning, her entire body shuddering, splintering, her hands clutching at his shoulders, repeating his name, until even the ability to do that was swallowed up by the passion. Somewhere in the middle of it all she unmistakably felt Vincent quaking against her, and smiled as she heard his soft, growling moans.

Eventually Catherine's trembling subsided, and although she was too ramped up to feel anywhere close to normal, at least she could form coherent thought again. Vincent was lazily moving back up her body, his lips leaving a trail of their combined wetness. She opened her mouth to tell him how incredible that had been, that she had never felt anything so intense, but he stopped her with a finger to her lips, followed by a gentle kiss. Catherine kissed him back, revelling in every taste, not wanting this moment to end, but he pulled away. "Shhhh" he whispered, gazing into her eyes. "I'm not done with you yet, not by half."

Catherine's breathing became heavier again, as Vincent moved his hand back down her body, circling her breasts, brushing against her stomach, his eyes not wavering from her own. One finger entered her, becoming coated in her wetness, then he brought it out and used it to circle her still-throbbing bud. The touch was electrifying and at first she involuntarily moved as if to stop him; "oh too soon, too sensitive" she gasped. Vincent slightly decreased the pressure he was exerting, but maintained his touch, massaging her purposefully. "Trust me", he murmured, hypnotising her with his gaze.

So she did. Almost instantly, the sensitivity turned from sweet pain into the most exquisite pleasure. It was as if with his heightened senses, his animal instincts, Vincent knew better than she how her body would react. Catherine found that thought very exciting, and wondered if he actually had any idea what a gift he had. She quivered as he slipped one, then two fingers inside, stroking, reaching, hooking back to feel every part of her, while his thumb continued the glorious assault on her swollen nub.

Her hands moved over his chest, his back, his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair, her breathing became ragged again. Catherine could feel his hardness against her leg, just out of reach, as though he was deliberately ensuring she didn't concentrate on anything other than her own pleasure...or perhaps ensuring he didn't either.

Eventually Vincent increased his tempo, fingers thrusting, thumb teasing. Still lost in each other's eyes, they began to move rhythmically together. Catherine continued to feel his manhood burning against her thigh, but it remained slightly beyond her grasp. As she thought about that, as she lost herself in everything he was doing to her, once again her need for release began to take precedence over any other thought. Staring into his eyes, into the depths of Vincent's very soul, she let go, moaning from her core as the sensations flooded her body, her mind. Vincent trembled alongside, letting out deep, guttural, animal sounds. Catherine heard his growls, and as she felt him throbbing wetly against her, she knew that he had also just found his release. His veins were furiously pulsing blue, his muscles were slightly redefining themselves, and his eyes were bright amber, verging on gold. But Catherine's gaze never wavered. She looked into the eyes of the Beast, of Vincent's Beast...and yet she was still looking into Vincent's eyes. They were one, and Catherine felt no fear, all she felt, all she saw in those golden, Vincent eyes, was love. She reached up and caressed his cheek, tracing his scar, and as she did so Vincent leaned down to kiss her, his muscles and veins returning to their fully human state, the gold in his eyes changing to amber, then disappearing.

A few gentle but intense kisses later, they broke apart. Vincent sat up and reached for the bottle of water Catherine had given him earlier, offering it to her. She propped herself up on one elbow and took it gratefully, swallowing half of what was left before giving it back, he drank the rest in one gulp. They settled back into the pillows, Catherine nestled against his chest. She felt hot and sticky and frankly, the best she'd ever felt in her life. "Thank you", she breathed. "That was...Vincent that was unbelievable. Twice." He chuckled, obviously pleased at her reaction. Catherine continued "and I know you wanted to give all that to me, but I'm glad that you got to enjoy the end result as well."

"So am I", Vincent replied. "Twice". He looked at her and winked, "I guess I just can't control myself around you".

"Well good then. I don't want control. I want all of you, whatever you want to do to me, whatever form you want to do it in, as often as you want, wherever you want."

"Whoa, you really are giving me a lot to live up to there. On the other hand, I like the idea of gradually working through all that."

"Me too" she replied, closing her eyes and nuzzling into his neck.

They dozed together for a short while, wrapped up in each other's arms. The storm outside was still raging, and a particularly loud clap of thunder brought them both back to reality with a start. Catherine was desperately thirsty, but was loathe to move from Vincent's warm embrace. As she lay there trying to figure out how to gracefully extract herself, and if it was even worth it, Vincent did it for her.

"Sorry Catherine," he said, rolling away and giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, "I need water. You?"

She nodded gratefully and watched as he walked towards the kitchen. No, not walked, he glided. Every muscle rippled, languid but firm at the same time. His strong, broad shoulders, leading down his back to the deep 'V' at the small of it, leading further into his toned and perfect buttocks, then further still to his solid thighs...oh those thighs, for some reason they were really turning her on.

"Catherine is water okay or do you want something else?" he asked, opening up the fridge. "Catherine?" he repeated, turning towards her.

"Umm whatever." She couldn't tear her eyes from him. The absolute glory of the view she'd just had, had been replaced by an even better one. Ripped deltoids, ripped pecs, ripped abs, ripped everything. And another 'V' shape, leading down to... "Do you know how perfect you are?" she said suddenly.

"Catherine? Wha...sorry?" he said quizzically, an opened bottle of water in each hand.

She got up from the bed and walked towards him, knowing full well that now it was he who was watching her. All she wanted at that moment was to touch each and every one of those muscles. To trace every part of his body with her fingers, with her lips. And water. She still wanted water. Damn she was thirsty. She took the proffered bottle and drank greedily, as Vincent did the same. "You're perfect." she said huskily. "How are you so perfect?"

Vincent grinned, suddenly a little self-conscious, but obviously just as enthralled by the sight now standing before him as Catherine was. She noticed his manhood start to lengthen, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Placing her nearly empty water bottle on the nearby shelf, she moved behind him, hands encircling his torso, running them up and down. With a feather light touch she moved her hands to his nipples, briefly tugging, rolling them between her fingers, until Vincent groaned and shivered with pleasure. "Oh Catherine that's...oh...so good...mmm." He reached behind to grasp her, and tried to turn to face her.

"No, no not yet Vincent. It's my turn...or should I say your turn. Just enjoy it". As he relented and let his arms fall to his sides, Catherine moved her hands down to Vincent's stomach, teasing up and down over his rock-hard abs, feeling them tense with pleasure under her touch. They weren't the only thing that was rock hard. One more move down and she had taken him into her hands, stroking gently at first, then with more purpose, more pressure. Without releasing her hold, Catherine moved around to face Vincent, looking intently into his eyes before fixing her gaze on the still increasing thickness between her fingers. She increased her rhythm, one hand on his shaft, the other hand cupping below. Vincent groaned, and leaned down, asking for, needing her kiss. Catherine met his mouth hungrily, tongues and lips seemingly trying to outdo each other in their frantic need to connect.

The kisses became deeper and Vincent placed his hands on her neck to draw her closer, but Catherine never relinquished her hold below, continuing to pull and caress and tug and stroke. His size and heaviness fascinated her, and she wanted to be sure she was giving him all the right attention, in all the right places, just as he had done for her. Eventually she wanted even more, wanted to possess him completely, and so she relinquished her connection to Vincent's mouth, moving downwards. She focussed on his shaft and leaned in, tongue flicking at the raging tip, mouth gradually encasing as much as she could, feeling him in the most intimate way.

Vincent's legs buckled, and he stumbled back against the shelves, knocking down various jars, equipment and paperwork. "Oh. My. God. Catherine...oh..." Vincent was gasping as if at the end of his rope, and she hadn't even really started to do anything. And yet with this intimate connection, the sensations she was feeling from him were instant and almost overwhelming. He was growing even further, throbbing quickly against her...was he reaching his release already? Or was it something else? "Catherine...you have to stop..." his voice was strained. Then desperately, pleading to his inner self: "no not now Christ not again no no please". Vincent reached down and moved Catherine off of him. He pulled her up so she stood, meeting his eyes. With a start Catherine realised that they had already turned past amber to golden, that the veins in his neck were pulsing furiously, that he was beginning to breathe in short, heavy rasps. Vincent's entire body was rippling as the muscles beneath his skin fought to reassert their animal DNA. There was no mistaking the signs, this was not the more compliant, sharing Beast from their earlier lovemaking, Catherine knew that this time he was on the verge of changing.

"Vincent...Vincent, come on, it's okay, you have control, remember? YOU decide. And if you decide to let him out, just a little, or a lot, or whatever you need, that's fine. You won't hurt me. I know you can't hurt me." Catherine spoke the words and meant them, almost babbling in her rush to reassure, but even she had no idea what she was agreeing to, what this might do to her. Or to Vincent. But she was damned if she was going to let him down, let any apprehension show. She'd made him a promise and would see this through, no matter what. And she trusted him, implicitly.

"But...oh damn...he's so strong. He, he doesn't reason...the urges...so strong...it's all instinct." She could see Vincent's struggle to hold it together, see the toll it was taking as he fought to get the words out, trying to give her - for the second time that night - a chance to run. "Catherine I want to...he wants to..."

"Then let him. Let yourself. Just be with me Vincent, both of you. All of you." She reached up and caressed his scar, watching in wonderment as his entire face shifted. For the briefest of moments she was looking at his Beast, then just as quickly his features shifted back so it was Vincent's own beautiful, tortured face again. At the same time she was becoming incredibly aroused, leaning into him, stroking his face, feeling his unrelenting hardness raging, quivering against her belly.

"No, no...Catherine you don't know...you...you...I can't stop..." Vincent was losing the battle, both battles; with his Beast and his Love.

"Vincent I promise. I promise if he goes...if you go too far I will get away. I won't let you hurt me, even unintentionally." They were looking deep into each other's eyes, the golden and the brown, accepting, trusting each other. "Open minds, remember?"

That was it. With a decidedly inhuman yowl, Vincent lifted her and moved the few steps over to the table, sweeping everything off of it with a semi-clawed hand. In one fluid motion he turned her around, bending her over it, entering her from behind. Catherine gasped and bit her lip; it was so fast and he was now so big it was painful at first, but there was no way she was going to let him know...because it also felt so unbelievably good. He thrusted, he plunged, he impaled her, again, again, until the pain became only pleasure, until she adjusted and pushed back on him, meeting him equally. He pulled her up against his torso, and she could feel his hot breath, the teeth that weren't quite human grazing against her neck. Sometimes the hands holding her had claws, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes the sounds he was making were primal, animalistic grunts, sometimes they were just familiar Vincent growls and moans. Sometimes Catherine knew, she just knew that if she could turn to face him she'd see his Beast, and at other times she was just as certain that she would see only Vincent.

She tried once to turn her head back to him, to kiss him, completely accepting of whichever Vincent she would meet, but he stopped her, holding her so tightly that she couldn't. Catherine realised that even though Vincent had been unable to prevent his animal side from taking the lead in their lovemaking, he was still going to control what he could; he did not want her to see him like this, not now. She relaxed and turned back, letting him know it was okay, and instead revelled in the primitive feelings he was invoking in her.

His claws occasionally dug into her skin, his arms sometimes held her too tightly, and his thrusts often felt as if she was going to be pushed right through the table. But Catherine didn't care, because through it all she could still feel a curious tenderness, a desire, however primitive, to attend to her needs, and ultimately, love. And besides, it really did just feel so incredibly good. Catherine may not have been part Beast, but she was finding it awfully difficult herself to hold back. She wanted to explode, to shatter, to let him know just how inflamed she was. He pounded into her ever harder; his hands pulling her hips back onto him. He was growling, moaning, grunting, all at the same time, all with equal ferocity, as his animal need for release overtook any remaining human resistance. He came almost violently, with a deafening roar, and Catherine gave herself to him at the exact same moment, feeling him turn her insides into molten lava as her own orgasm challenged his, cleaving them together as one.

Catherine gradually returned from the dizzying heights he'd taken her to. She wanted desperately to turn to him, to kiss him, to show him it was alright, but she knew Vincent wouldn't want that, not yet. His Beast was still holding her tight, rocking against her, within her, breathing harshly. She could tell that Vincent was fighting himself again, no doubt knowing that if he released her he'd change back sooner, but that in doing so she'd see him before he wanted. Catherine realised that it was one thing for him to accept her seeing and interacting with his Beast at other times, but this, this was different.

Catherine waited; stroking his arms, telling him it was okay, telling him she loved him. Eventually she felt the Beast disappear, and as Vincent relaxed his hold she turned to him, taking his face in her hands, looking into his eyes. What she saw saddened her: she saw the love, but she also saw shame, guilt, even confusion. Catherine tried to kiss him, but instead Vincent pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. He began to sob, deep wracking sobs; the kind that came from a man only when he was at his absolute lowest point. Catherine held him, rocked him, knew that this was not the time to say anything, not yet. For all his strength and outward bravado, her Vincent was still a deeply damaged, fragile man, emotions torn to shreds over and over again through the years, in constant battle with himself. She knew she would never completely understand exactly what it must have taken for him to break down enough walls just to let her through in the first place, let alone to allow himself to love her openly, to take the steps they had taken tonight. But she did understand that just now he'd taken another step; even after the shame he felt about what had just happened, this time he hadn't pushed her away or run himself. Instead he was giving himself to her again, needing her there at his most vulnerable moment.

They stood together in near darkness; most of JT's candles had now burned themselves out, and the lightning outside had passed. Catherine continued to hold Vincent as the minutes passed, until his sobs slowed and eventually ceased. He raised his head and slowly looked at her, his eyes still tortured. "I'm so sorry. Catherine I tried, I fought the whole time...but I just wasn't strong enough. I couldn't stop him...stop myself. I wanted so much just to...I'm sorry."

"Vincent, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm fine, really."

"No, I hurt you".

"You didn't." She saw him looking at a set of scratches on her hips, courtesy of his claws. "That is just a scratch, no more or no less than what any other couple might give each other." She didn't mention the bruises she could already feel forming, he'd see those soon enough anyway.

He shook his head. "Catherine that's hardly what any other couple would be dealing with. And anyway I don't just mean that. I mean...I mean inside you. I was too rough, I tried to not to...but I couldn't stop, couldn't slow down." She tried to protest again, but Vincent interrupted. "Please, don't deny it Catherine, even though physically I lost control, I was still aware of everything; I could still sense you trying not to let me know how much I was hurting you."

Catherine mentally kicked herself, realising that her attempts to spare him hadn't made a bit of difference. She should have known she couldn't hide anything. But on the other hand... "Okay Vincent, well if that's true, then you also know that was mostly just at the start. I wanted it...I enjoyed it, a lot, even if you don't want to hear that. It was...different, sure. But different doesn't have to be bad. Being with you is teaching me lots of things I never..."

"I know Catherine, I know" he interrupted her, "whether you...we enjoyed it is not the point. The point is...the point is that it could happen again and you'll say you're fine but I'll know if you're not and and...besides, this isn't what I want for us. I know we won't ever be normal, but what if we can't ever really make love?"

"Vincent...what do you think we've been doing the last few hours?"

"No, no, do you realise that even with everything we've done tonight, and as great as most of it has been, we haven't actually done that? Not really. What if we can't, what if we can only go so far each time before I lose control, before I hurt you again, even just a little...what if this is it for us?"

His voice cracked. Catherine could see he was starting to crumble again. The shame he felt over what he thought he'd done to her, what he thought lay ahead, obviously went too deep to just be erased with a conversation and a bit of reassurance. And besides, they were both exhausted. "Okay look, Vincent. It's been a long night, a wonderful night, a crazy night...for both of us. Why don't we get some sleep? Things will look better in the morning. Things always look better in the morning."

Vincent stood silently for several moments, composing himself again. Finally he nodded, drawing her back into an embrace. "You think I'm overreacting, don't you?" Catherine shook her head in protest as he continued on. "You're probably right, because yes, tonight has been wonderful and we've done things...good things, incredible things...that I never imagined we could. Catherine, I love you so much." He leaned down and kissed her, gently, passionately. "I just so hoped that..." he stopped, sighed, and looked deeply into her eyes. "Sleep it is. But just sleep," he managed a wink "for now, just sleep."

Catherine smiled at the man she loved with all her heart. "Just sleep." she repeated, taking his hand and leading him to their bed.

To Be Continued...

©2013 Judache English


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